“Dell, should you?—”
“I’m fine.” The truck was already moving, tires crunching toward the parking lot exit. Mae stared at him in panic, remembering the blank anger on his face when he’d thrown that mug. That was not a face that should be driving. In a shitty neighborhood. Of a city he hated. In the middle of the night.
That—fuck—shehad brought him to.
But he glanced at her then, pausing just before he pulled out of the lot to reach over and take her hand. It was only a small squeeze, before his hands returned to the wheel and his foot to the gas, but it was something.
“It’s okay, Mae,” he said as he pulled onto Columbia. “I’m okay. I just need to get home.”
Mae stared straight out the windshield, heart still hammering as the dark night passed them by. She knew Dell didn’t mean Vik and Jackson’s. She knew, as Dell navigated down the road toward the I-5 ramp, that they were going back to Greyfin Bay.
And maybe the fretting, rational part of Mae’s brain worried about Dell, driving almost three hours in the middle of the night in the midst of a trigger, and her own safety next to him.
But the more she watched him from the corner of her eye, his hands never leaving 10 and 2 on the wheel, his profile hard but calm, something in her gut settled. She sent Vik a quick text:Something happened, and we’re okay, but we’re heading back to Greyfin Bay right now. I’m sorry promise I’ll explain later.She understood, somehow, that this was what Dell needed. She trusted him.
And she found, as the quiet miles went by, that she didn’t really care about whatever belongings she’d left back at Vik’s place. The things on her Portland to-do list she hadn’t yet gotten done. She just wanted Dell to be able to get back to Greyfin Bay. To be with his dogs. To be in his workshop.
Every time her eyelids started to droop on the long drive, she pinched the skin on her wrist. Dell always seemed alert, every single time she glanced at him, but she had to stay awake to make sure. That he was okay. That they were almost there.
Almost home.
nineteen
As soon asthe ignition turned off, the adrenaline hit.
Dell supposed it had been there all along, these last two and a half hours—traffic had been light in the middle of the night; they’d made good time—that it was what had allowed his mind to go quiet, hyper focused, intent on only the road in front of him, the wheel in his hands. He had expected Mae to protest more, to be worried about the state he was in, but he was grateful she’d barely complained at all. That he hadn’t had to explain—not that he would have been able to—that he’d never felt like such a competent driver in his life.
But now that they sat in his drive, the engine cooling, all that tension maintained by his adrenal gland seemed to heave an enormous sigh. He attempted to pull his keys out of the ignition, but found his hands were shaking too badly to do it.
“Fuck,” he muttered.
“It’s okay.” Mae’s voice was soft, but her fingers over his were steady. “I got it.”
“Sorry.” His voice sounded slurred; he couldn’t tell if it actually was or if his mind had just started to go sideways. “Swear I was a safe driver.”
“I know you were,” Mae said. “Come on. Time to rest.” She opened her door, and somehow, he was able to follow suit. Until his eyes spotted the extra car sitting in his driveway, and his feet stopped. Mae paused at his side.
“Liv,” she explained, voice still soft, and Dell’s stomach lurched.
“Fuck,” he said again.
“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it.” She already had out her phone, was typing rapidly. The bright screen in the dark hurt Dell’s eyes; he squinted away. “Okay. I’ll help you get inside, okay?”
“I can get inside my own house,” he mumbled automatically, but he didn’t mean it. He was pretty sure her hand was on his lower back, pushing him gently along. He never wanted that hand to leave.
“Blue one,” he said when they arrived at the back door, the one that led to his workshop. Mae fumbled through his keys before she found it. She turned the lock quietly, but as soon as they stepped inside, there was still a sudden cacophony of barks.
Dell wasn’t sure if he should be embarrassed that he started crying as soon as he heard it.
He also wasn’t sure how long he kneeled in the middle of his workshop, hugging CSNY once they all arrived, licking his face and wiggling their butts against his side. Liv never followed them in, and in the rational part of his brain he was able to access, he was grateful: that she must still be in the guest room, that whatever Mae had said to her resulted in Liv not seeing him like this. Mae was still there, her hands brushing through his hair, but that he didn’t mind.
“Hey,” she whispered eventually, once the dogs had begun to calm. “Let’s get you all to bed.”
Getting back to his feet felt like the hardest thing he’d done all night, but somehow he accomplished it, leading Mae and the dogs into the hallway, through the living room, past the kitchen, into his room.
As soon as they walked through the door, Dell kicked off his shoes.
“Okay,” Mae said again. “I’ll let you?—”
